Tuesday, November 04, 2014

I've just been looking at a whole
Flickr album of wedding pictures that Alexander sent. He's got some
good ones. It is disconcerting to glimpse one's awkward, ill-sorted,
elderly self amongst the jollity.

This is one of Helen's, though, Thomas
and Lucy leaving the church as we all threw rose petals. There were
no photographs during the ceremony. This is probably the best we'll
get of the Princess in action.

I also like this one, of Helen's three
sons. Fergus, on the left, will probably go to Merchiston too, but
only after Archie, on the right, has left. That's Mungo in the
middle. They are probably waiting around outside the church in Richmond before the ceremony, There were lots of kilts that day.

And I like this one of Alexander's,
showing the bridegroom's younger brother Joe, who looked enormously
smart and did a brilliant job as chief usher. The other chap was the
best man, and this must have been taken as the bridegroom's party was
setting out for the pub two hours before the wedding. They were all
in the church, sober as coots, an hour before the ceremony, you will
be glad to hear.

I'll leave that, but oh, dear, Flickr is not going to cooperate.

I had a brief message from my sister
yesterday – they reached London safely, Roger very tired. They
still have today and tomorrow to recover before the flight to CT. One
of the difficulties of life in Old Saybrook is that it is a long way
from any international airport – a substantial amount of travel
remains after touchdown.

Knitting

Not much to tell you. Archie has
approved Composition Book Grey for his sweater with a wave of the
hand, that's fine, despite its purpleness. I was all set to start
again with El Greco. I wrote to Eat, Sleep, Knit asking if it is
really grey, but haven't heard back. I must have used the wrong email
address. It would be an appropriately named shade for a man who lives
in Athens.

Not much got done over the weekend, but
a bit. It's top-down, this sweater, and the increases for the raglan
seams are piling on the stitches rather briskly. I will soon need a
longer needle, and don't have a beautiful wooden one in the right
size. The soon-to-be-too-short one I am knitting with is beautiful
and wooden. I will be sorry to give it up. I think another order to
Meadow Yarns looms.

The Knowledgeable Knitter and Brioche
Style are both here, as well as Hazel Tindall's DVD's (you get two)
about Fair Isle Knitting. (The return address on the jiffy bag, I am
sure in her own hand, was, in effect, “Burnside, Shetland”.
“Burnside” is the name of our house in Strathardle – see
sidebar – but it takes a couple more lines of address to describe
it fully. It is very pleasant to live beside a burn. The ancient
Romans regarded the sound of water as a highly desirable adjunct to a
country house – and so it is.)

But I haven't looked at the books,
still less the DVD's. Some people, I gather, find that time hangs
heavy in retirement. Not me. Capacity diminishes as duties do, and I
find myself fully as far behind with everything as ever I was.

10 comments:

The Princess is indeed spectacular! What a cherished memory it will be.And, one question from one unaware of the niceties of Scottish dress......How is it that two young men from the same family wear two different plaids? Is one a 'dress' plaid and the other a 'casual'? Or is it the color scheme that is significant? Either way, they are quite dashing!

The shawl looks just amazing! My mother also admired it very much, as well as the boys, who are kitted out quite smartly. It looks and sounds as if a good time was had by all.

We used to live in Old Lyme, right next door to Old Saybrook. It is a bit of a hike from the airport to home. (It was a bit of a hike to get almost anywhere, actually.) Quite a lovely part of the country though.

Just echoing the raptures over the shawl - looks absolutely beautiful. As an aside, so glad to hear there were no photos during the ceremony - regrettably rare among my acquaintance these days. Marriage is not a sacrament for us Protestants, but I like a sacramental sort of atmosphere at the time.- Beth in Ontario